Office show - part 1-2 (Patreon)

I got carried away by this story and almost done it, but while I'm working on the details, I want to share a slightly rewritten beginning and continuation. I also worked on the images in more detail... I won't reveal what exactly, except for the brightness, but I think attentive people will notice it when I publish everything =)

By the way, how do you like the idea of ​​highlighting the lines with color?

1…

Mike hated his father.

He hated every one of his dad’s idiotic ideas, which usually ended in disaster. But today… today the old man outdid himself. “Body swap for a day,” that’s what he called it. Officially, it was labeled "Corporate Team Building," but everyone knew the truth — just another stunt to get attention for the company.

The procedure took place in the morning. As a VIP, Mike underwent it separately from the other employees, in one of the company’s most luxurious offices. Everything seemed perfect: a comfy chair, white sterile walls, and a machine that looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. The lab technician, smiling professionally, injected Mike with the serum, and in the next moment, his consciousness sank into darkness.

When he woke up, something felt off. The lab tech shot him a quick, surprised glance, as if something hadn’t gone according to plan. But Mike didn’t dwell on it. Two hours had passed since the swap, and now he sat at a desk cluttered with papers and odd trinkets that seemed to belong to the secretary named Tiffany, according to the name badge he was wearing.

Long fingers with a perfect manicure drummed nervously on the desk. A tight pink suit squeezed against a massive chest, the skirt strained against the hips, and the heels he was forced to wear were already killing him. It all irritated him to the core, but he tried not to show it. ‘They know who I am,’ he kept repeating to himself, but the nagging thought that something had gone wrong lingered at the edge of his mind.

“Uh… Tiffany,” came the voice of Mike’s “boss” — one of the warehouse workers now playing the role. She knew who he really was. Everyone did, but the rules of this absurd game required them to pretend everything was normal. As if he were actually Tiffany, the dumb blonde secretary who sat at this very desk every day. And for some reason, now, hours into the workday, she chose to make this strange comment: “Why aren’t you wearing any makeup today?”

Mike shot her a glare, showing just how absurd the question was. But it only seemed to give her more authority. “It’s unprofessional, Tiffany. You know the rules,” she added, with a nervous chuckle, her gaze darting to one of the many office cameras recording their every move. “Go fix yourself up. In the ladies' room… now!” she added, her voice shaking slightly.

‘Is she serious? Ordering me around? Makeup? Fix myself up?’ Mike wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but inside, he was boiling with humiliation and anger. His own rugged, masculine face felt utterly out of place against this fragile, feminine body. His shoulders tensed as if trying to shrink from the unwanted attention.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he spat, feeling the anger rise. But his new, high-pitched voice — Tiffany’s voice — sounded annoyingly soft, which only made him angrier.

“Did you say something, Tiffany?” Her tone suddenly hardened, and Mike saw her grow more confident. She knew he couldn’t refuse. The cameras were watching their every move, and everyone knew their roles in this insane show. The online views had already climbed into the hundreds of thousands, and countless people were watching this unfold.

Mike closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. The entire day felt unreal, like he’d been thrown into some bizarre dream. But the dream was reality. The weight on his chest, the tight skirt, the uncomfortable heels — none of it let him forget that for a second. And now this…

He looked at his “boss,” who was watching him with barely concealed fear but a serious enough expression.

“And what about my meeting with Mr. Bennett? Did you tell everyone?” she asked, her nervous smile betraying that she wasn’t sure what to do next.

Mike clenched his teeth, trying to contain his irritation. Her question was clearly an attempt to lighten the mood and make everything seem “business as usual,” but inside, he was boiling at the absurdity of it all.

“I… yeah… I scheduled the damn meeting,” Mike growled, but Tiffany’s sweet voice made the words sound far less menacing than he’d hoped.

Without another word, he stood up, struggling to keep his balance on the high heels. His feet immediately throbbed with pain. The first step was awkward, his body swayed, and he had to put out a hand to steady himself, feeling the unfamiliar weight of his new chest sway heavily with the movement. ‘I hate that old man,’ he thought again as he walked out into the main office.

2…

Mike walked down the hallway, feeling the skirt cling to his legs, but tried to ignore it. He tugged at the collar of the blouse, feeling the fabric stretch tightly across his chest — massive, unbearably heavy, and with every step, that chest jiggled, almost as if it had a life of its own. "Damn it!" he thought, as one of the bra straps painfully dug into his shoulder.

He caught the looks from his colleagues — they tried to stay in character, pretending that it really was Tiffany in front of them. They feared him, knowing that this charade would end tomorrow, but they couldn't help the faint, almost imperceptible smirks in their eyes. ‘What are you grinning at?’ Mike wanted to snap, but held back. ‘Once I’m in charge, I’ll fire all of you.’

"Tiffany, you look great today!" a voice called from behind. Mike gritted his teeth, not turning around. ‘Go to hell,’ he nearly shouted.

He was about to speed up when the sound of heels clicking caught up to him. Sarah approached, smiling so warmly that Mike immediately felt suspicious. He recognized her face — she worked in marketing or something nearby, but now she was clearly someone else. He deliberately glanced at her badge: "Kelly Benson, Assistant Director of HR."

"Uh… Tiffany," she said tentatively, but then added, “Are you okay?” Sarah, now “Kelly,” stopped beside him, tilting her head and smiling kindly. Her voice was soft, almost concerned, but Mike sensed the hidden subtext.

‘Okay?’ echoed in his mind. Of course, everything was okay — ‘being stuck in this dumb body, feeling the weight of these boobs bounce with every step, the bra strap digging painfully into my shoulder, and the thong wedged in my ass while trying not to trip over these stupid heels!’

Mike looked at “Kelly,” not bothering to hide his irritation. He knew full well that Sarah, now in Kelly Benson’s body, was trying to suck up to him, even though they were all forced to play by the rules of this ridiculous body swap. Sarcasm bubbled up in his throat — the situation was too absurd to resist.

“Oh yeah, everything’s just peachy,” he said snarkily, though Tiffany’s soft, high-pitched voice couldn’t convey his anger. “A little more makeup and the day will be saved.” And sure enough, Sarah seemed to take his sarcasm at face value, as if she’d been waiting for it.

She looked at him more closely for a moment, her expression briefly surprised, but then a broad smile spread across her face.

"Well, that’s easy to fix!" she said way too cheerfully, as if she hadn’t caught the sarcasm at all. "Let me help you freshen up your makeup. We’ve got that meeting with Mr. Bennett, after all. You need to look perfect."

Mike felt the rage boiling inside him. Makeup? Seriously? He hadn’t planned on doing any of that — he just wanted to take a break, make it to the restroom, and then return to his “desk.” And now this girl was taking his sarcasm seriously. The whole thing was painfully absurd, and he rolled his eyes, barely holding back an irritated laugh.

"Oh yeah, right. Mr. Bennett! How could I possibly show up without perfectly painted lips and lashes? I just wouldn’t be able to impress Mr. Bennett," he shot back sarcastically, trying to give his words the sharpness they deserved. But Tiffany’s sweet, high-pitched voice once again ruined it, making his sarcasm sound almost friendly.

Sarah froze for a second, as if trying to figure out whether "Tiffany" was serious, but quickly recovered, her smile widening.

"Of course, you know how important appearances are for these kinds of meetings. Come on, let me help you. It’ll only take a couple of minutes," she said, turning and nodding toward the ladies' room, clearly expecting Mike to go along with her offer.

Mike looked at her silently, then at the cameras that were recording everything, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw his "future employees" exchanging glances and whispers.

"Fine," he muttered through clenched teeth, trying to stay calm, but in Tiffany’s voice, it came out so soft and submissive that he almost ground his teeth in frustration. "Let’s just get to the damn ladies’ room."